


you taste couture

by blazeofglory



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Cunnilingus, F/F, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has to be on the runway soon, but that doesn't stop her from having a quickie with Grantaire in the bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you taste couture

**Author's Note:**

> This is is inspired by another fic I'm writing, in which Enjolras is a model and Grantaire is a photographer, but both are male, and it's considerably longer than this. There will be no sex scenes there because I'm too much of a lesbian for gay sex, so. I wrote this instead.

Enjolras was _supposed_ to be getting ready to walk the runway, and Grantaire was _supposed_ to be waiting with the other crowd of photographers, but after a whispered conversation, they’d abandoned their jobs for a little bit. Enjolras was busy being crowded up against the back of the locked bathroom door by Grantaire, barely bothering to hope that no one needed to pee. She knew her hair was going to have to be touched up after this, and the stylists would tut at her for messing with it, but at least she was smart enough to stop Grantaire from kissing her, leaving her makeup fully intact.

“We don’t have time for this,” Enjolras protested, though she didn’t move her fingers from Grantaire’s hair, and certainly didn’t stop her girlfriend from peppering kisses down her neck. “I have to go out soon…”

Grantaire pulled back reluctantly and checked her watch. “We have half an hour,” she pointed out. “And I can’t help it, you’re irresistible like this.”

Enjolras snorted as Grantaire went back to her neck, those sharp teeth scraping against her racing pulse. She wanted to disagree, because really, she looked _ridiculous_ with her hair in its in intricate braids and her lips stained purple. Her false eyelashes were monstrous, and there was glitter on her cheekbones. Very high fashion, she knew, but not exactly sexy. Though, knowing Grantaire, she’d say Enjolras was irresistible no matter what she looked like.

Grantaire’s hands slowly pushed up her dress, and Enjolras spared a moment to be thankful the fabric wasn’t one to wrinkle easily. Reluctantly, Enjolras stopped those skilled fingers before they touched her aching pussy. “We can’t. Not here.”

“Yes, we can,” Grantaire persisted, a cheeky smile on her lips. She cupped Enjolras through her panties, and her grin only grew. “I can feel how wet you are, how much you want it.”

“I’m patient, I can wait a few hours.”

“Really?” Grantaire smirked, and _damn her_ , she knew Enjolras couldn’t resist that mischievous look on her face. “Or I could just go down on you now _and_ in a few hours.”

Enjolras glanced around the bathroom quickly. There _was_ a chair, god knows why, but it would suffice… “Fine,” she relented, feigning disinterest. “I guess I’ll let you eat me out.”

The brunette had been following her gaze, so she just rolled her eyes and stepped back, following Enjolras over to the ugly, overstuffed, pink chair in the corner. Enjolras desperately wanted to kiss her, but the stupid purple lipstick would get everywhere, so she settled for tugging at her loose curls affectionately. Enjolras sat down, perched on the very edge of the chair, and Grantaire settled between her knees.

Grantaire looked at her the way she always did when they had sex—like Enjolras was doing her some grand favor and Grantaire couldn’t help but be in complete awe. That expression had really thrown her for a loop the first time they’d slept together; matched with Grantaire’s complete devotion and body worship, it was… a lot to handle. Certainly more open appreciation than Enjolras had ever experienced before, and it floored her every day. Grantaire slowly slid Enjolras’ panties, a wisp of black lace, down her legs, wasting time they didn’t have. Then Enjolras was eagerly spreading her legs, and Grantaire dove right in.

Enjolras moaned in surprise, immediately regretting it because they were in a fucking _bathroom_ and anyone could walk by and hear them. But it was too hard to focus on that when Grantaire was licking her cunt, foregoing the gentle teasing kisses she usually started with. Instead, she slipped her tongue inside Enjolras, her hands coming up to hold her thighs in place. Enjolras leaned back, holding herself up with her arms braced on the ugly chair.

Enjolras looked down, and Grantaire was looking up at her already, their eyes meeting. A second later, Grantaire was closing her soft lips over Enjolras’ clit and sucking, dragging another ragged moan from her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. “ _Oh, R—_ “

Grantaire chuckled against her, the vibrations against Enjolras’ dripping cunt evoking another soft noise from the blonde. She wished that they weren’t in a public fucking bathroom, so she could scream for Grantaire if she wanted, and they could take their sweet time, and she could reciprocate. She wanted to be properly fucked, and she wanted to fuck Grantaire in return, but no, they didn’t have the time…

Enjolras was already so close, she was panting for it, and Grantaire was licking and sucking just _right_ , it was driving her crazy, and then—there was a knock on the door.

“Enjolras, I know you’re in there,” Cosette’s voice called out. Enjolras blushed immediately and Grantaire drew back, her lips sticky with Enjolras’ juices. “We have to go on soon, remember? You can have sex with Grantaire later.”

“I’ll be right out,” Enjolras responded, quickly tugging her panties back on. She waited until she heard Cosette walk away before playfully swatting at her girlfriend. “I _told_ you we didn’t have time. Now I have to go strut down the runway, acting like I’m not soaking wet and orgasm-deprived. You’re a monster.”

Grantaire laughed, not sounding the least bit apologetic as she washed her face. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Oh, you better.”


End file.
